|Current mood:|| ditzy|
|Current music:||Third Eye Blind|
Testing. 1, 2, 3. *headdesk*
I don't have any real reason for making a Blurty. .B.L.U.R.T.Y.
Besides the one below that is, which, as far as my reasons normally go, is fairly adequate:
me: i'm going to go and make a damn blurty too. because that name is cool, that moose's ass is mine, and i am really just conforming.
him: haha cool, someone else can comment on my journal now
me: comment whore.
Don't do drugs, children, or you'll turn into glue sniffing cybersluts and I should stop listening to wierd music while I'm in this condition. [Painkillers count as drugs. Back away from that Tylenol. NOW.]
I'm just crazy.
I want to smash my homework with a sledgehammer, because I can't find my machete and mother took away my fire hydrant, also my traffic cone is in hiding, cos it has to lay down deep below, since the FBI is after it, and I have myspace, but you can't really type useless shit that people will read there, I have nothing else to type about which is really really strange because normally I can't shut up and I guess I'm back to what subsitutes for normal for me, because I am still typing, I mean you know how it is, how we do it, and-
My sister's eating paint chips again
Maybe that's why she's insane
I shut the door to her moaning
And I shoot smack in my veins
See my neighbor's beating his wife
Because he hates his life
There's a knock to his fist as he swings
Oh man, what a beautiful thing
And death slides close to me
Won't grow old to be
A junkie wino creep
High school can suck my non-existant balls.